


Destati

by etamine



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Compliant, Chronic Pain, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It gets better I promise, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Canon Fix-It, Recovery, Sickfic, Suicidal Thoughts, depressed!noctis, really briefly implied past sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-27 14:25:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15687225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etamine/pseuds/etamine
Summary: Noctis was content with being dead. The universe doesn't generally allow Noctis to be content for long.





	1. Chapter 1

Bliss.

 

That’s how Noctis would describe it. There was sunlight streaming through the windows of the throne room, making the floral arrangements look even richer in colour. Banners marking his coronation hung on the walls, the fabrics looking more thick and vibrant than he’d ever seen them before. Death was more vibrant than life in many ways, he thought, and significantly more peaceful.

 

It was as though he’d been given oxygen – everything was so much easier. No more headaches, and being trapped in the games of Astrals, no more chronic pain. He could see his dad, he could meet his mother properly, he’d joined the ranks of the fallen kings. The weight of the ring was gone from his fingers, Luna’s tangled between them instead.

 

Luna. He’d never had a chance to truly be with her in life, but now they had all eternity to get to know each other properly, to learn to be husband and wife. Sure, their marriage had been arranged, and politically motivated, but they were together for all eternity now.

 

“Noctis,” she smiled, reaching for the photograph he’d brought with him. He’d decided on one of the four of them at the Disk of Cauthess in the end, one that Prompto had been particularly proud of and had bragged about for days on end. He smiled fondly as he handed it over, thinking how his friends must be walking tall without him. Rebuilding a kingdom where the sun could shine once again, where daemons could no longer haunt, where others could go on the kind of road trip that theirs had started out as.

 

Hell, there may have even been a holiday created in their honour. The stops on their road trip might even be monuments.

 

Another beam of sunlight flooded through the window, and he closed his eyes contentedly. Luna’s hair tickled his neck, the scent of sylleblossoms flooded his senses, a soft breeze blew across his face, and the throne he had feared for so long was so warm and soft that it wouldn’t surprise him if he drifted off.

 

“Goodbye, Noctis,” whispered Luna quietly after a few minutes, a tear soaking through the fabric of his raiment.

 

“Luna, what do you me-“ he started, and then there was agony ripping through his spine, Ardyn’s laughter ringing through his ears. His lungs burned, and something was gripping him so tightly he felt like his ribs might snap.

 

And then there was silence.

 

There was a weight on his chest, the smell of mould and damp in his nose, and his back was wet and cold. His vision was minimal, and his stomach was turning, and he knew immediately that he needed to _get the fuck out_ of whatever hell he’d been dragged into.

 

His fingers curled around something – the hilt of his engine blade, his mind supplied - and suddenly it hit him. He was in his fucking _tomb_. The cold, damp, hard surface on his back was a marble plinth. The stench of damp was just like the one in the old tombs he’d explored with his friends.

 

As his eyes adjusted, he could just about the familiar sight of a tomb’s walls, ivy climbing up along them in places, and his breath hitched. How fucking long had he been here? As he sat up, he felt a tug on his scalp – his hair had clearly matted from the length of time he’d been lay there – and a familiar pain shot through from his back. Not even death cured chronic pain, it appeared.

 

He stood up, wincing as his knee buckled slightly, and used his engine blade as a pale imitation of a walking stick to get himself over to the door. Pushing it open, he was greeted by the familiar sight of the Vesperpool, which he supposed was a fitting place for him to rest for the last time.

 

It didn’t stop him from contemplating stabbing himself with his sword though, to try and go back. The thought that the astrals may not send him back if he offed himself was about all that stopped him from doing it.

 

He limped his way to the haven glowing in the distance, throwing his sword aside once he was seated atop it. He buried his face in his hands, letting out a deep sigh.

 


	2. Return

Prompto sighed with relief once he saw the sign for the Vesperpool, leaning back in his seat. “Nearly there,” he said, closing his eyes.

“So does that mean you’re going to stop asking then?” asked Ignis, a small smirk playing around his lips, as Gladiolus laughed in the back seat. 

The car they were in didn’t hold a candle to the Regalia, not at all, but even after the painstaking reconstruction Cindy had done on it when an envoy had brought it back from Gralea, none of the three could bear to get inside it. The plush seats felt hollow beneath them, the radio couldn’t fill the air with the sound of soft snores, and there was a far too big space on the back seat. 

Cindy had made them try, but after needing to haul Prompto out mid panic attack and seeing that even Gladio’s eyes were full with tears, she’d taken pity on them, and loaned them a car that had been sitting in the back of the garage since the middle of the Darkness for their escape from Insomnia.

All three were proud of what they’d managed to rebuild so far. After word had got out that the Crown City was clear of Daemons, that houses and apartment blocks were still standing, and that the sun wasn’t going to disappear again any time soon, people had flooded the gates. The streets of Insomnia were bustling any time they left. It was no longer unusual to see blonde hair there either – as refugees from Tenebrae and Niflheim had made their way there too.

The city still looked ramshackle in areas, but overall, people seemed happy. Businesses had started to spring up around the city, the hospital was already fully rebuilt, and it wasn’t uncommon to hear a baby’s cry as the birth rate shot up in celebration. In fact, people were so happy that it had been a year since the dawn that there were to be mass celebrations in the street, parades, and a special exhibition of the crystal. 

They’d found it shattered into pieces when they’d entered the throne room, and at dawn on the anniversary, the interim president of Lucis was going to put the final shard back into its reconstruction. There’d been announcements all over the city, people had been camping for days to witness the sight.

And it was at that point that the three of them had made their excuses and decided that it was time to leave, if only for a short while.

The idea of Noctis not being there for their celebrations, and of a crystal with no king, was something that they’d all cried over at one point or another. They’d even refused the honorary titles they were to be given mid celebration, as there was no king to bestow them any longer, and heaven forbid they allowed anybody else. 

Ignis had walked in one night to find Prompto breathless and sobbing over a flyer about the parade, because there wasn’t a single mention of Noctis on it – plenty of the dawn which he’d brought about, but none of Noctis - and after discussion with Gladio, they had decided that was it. They needed to get out until the whole thing was over and the whole place had returned to the kind of eerie normality that let them continue to push through their grief.

It had been an easy decision where to go. At the time, they’d wondered if putting Noctis’ tomb at the other end of Lucis was wise, but they could see no better place for him than The Vesperpool. The hours they’d spent watching him fish for that goddamned Liege, the laugh he’d let out when they’d found a fishing spot only reachable by chocobo, his sneezes when he’d fell asleep lay on his chocobo for the night. The Vesperpool was only filled with happy memories for them all, and it had felt right to them.

Plus, the privacy had worked out in their favour, really. Their grief hadn’t always been dignified, and there were few visitors to watch their individual breakdowns at the door of Noctis’ tomb. They felt watched in Insomnia – people knew they’d been the King Of Light’s crownsguard, that they’d guarded him until he’d been able to bring the dawn – and sometimes they needed somewhere private to grieve.

Ignis felt himself relaxing as he pulled into the parking spot, tension melting away from his shoulders. He’d barely even pulled up before Prompto was getting out and almost running to the haven, and he shared a laugh with Gladio at that as they worked to get their supplies from the trunk. They’d packed heavily, aware that they’d probably be here at least a few days, the pull of the Vesperpool too strong for them to only stay one night. 

His stomach sank when he heard Prompto’s scream coming from the haven though, and he took off after Gladio to see what had happened. Sure, daemons were gone, but there were other things still lurking in the grass around the Vesperpool that wouldn’t be kept away from a haven. And a haven couldn’t keep Prompto’s thoughts away, either.

“Fuck, Ignis!” roared Gladio, and Ignis felt like his feet were disconnected from the rest of him as he ran as fast as he could. His thoughts were going wild, thinking what could have possibly happened in the few minutes they’d been separated, how the hell could they heal now the crystal’s magic was gone and their potions were nothing more than water, why hadn’t he gone with him –

And as he climbed the rocks of the haven, he felt his heart stop.

Noctis was back. He’d have thought it were a mirage, some foul trick of the mind, were it not for Prompto sobbing into the man’s arms, and Gladio clapping him on the back with a tearful laugh, and his near stumble over a tossed aside engine blade. 

They could clearly see him too. This had to be real.


	3. Catching Up

Touch felt different in life and in death, thought Noctis.

Luna’s touch had felt ethereal, like feathers against his skin. There was warmth, but no weight, just the feeling of a presence against his own. But Prompto felt almost searing against his cold skin, his weight was pressed against him, smelling slightly of sweat and salty like tears, ribs slightly too prominent through his jumper. Gladio’s hand was a warm, steady weight on his back, fingers slick with tears where he’d wiped them from his eye, breath hot on his neck. Ignis was smooth silk gloves, and a piercing stare – a stare? His breath caught in his throat.

“Iggy?” he asked, voice raspy with a lack of water and underuse. “You can see?”    

Ignis gave him a small smile, turning his head to point to a small silver disk buried in his hair, flush against his skull, and then at a small attachment to his glasses. “Of a fashion. Prompto’s pet project while you’ve been away.”

“Y-yeah,” sniffed Prompto, nodding but still not loosening his grip on Noctis in the slightest. “There’s a camera, and the feed goes to his occ…ox… something lobe,” he explained. “We found blueprints in Z- that lab.”

“Occipital lobe,” supplied Ignis. “It’s like looking into a VR headset, really. My peripheral vision is near nothing, but we had to find a way to prevent those two from driving, didn’t we?”

"I suppose we did,” smirked Noctis, shaking his head and patting Prompto’s back. “Today’s full of surprises, isn’t it?”   

“You can say that again,” laughed Gladio, shaking his head. “How long have you been here?”

“I’m not sure,” admitted Noctis, shaking his head. “I woke up in there,” he said, pointing a thumb over at the white marble of the tomb. “It was light out already. I just… sat here, I guess. When actually is it, if Prom’s had time to be learning about brain lobes?”

“A year since the dawn,” supplied Ignis. “Right down to the day. We decided to escape and avoid the anniversary in our own way, I suppose.”

“You got that right,” mumbled Prompto against Noctis’ neck. “Like we’re going to be happy and in a parade to celebrate a fucking year without Noct. Fuck that.”

Noctis couldn’t help but let a laugh burst out at that. “Never were one for pomp and ceremony, were you?” he grinned, giving the man in his arms a squeeze. “When did you shave the goatee, by the way? Thank the Astrals that you did.”

“Aranea pinned him down,” laughed Gladio, shaking his head. “She wasn’t going to let that go on when people started getting in his face with cameras. Enough people know they live together that the damned thing was a reflection on her.”

“You and Aranea, huh?” teased Noctis, giving Prompto’s hair a ruffle. “Didn’t think she went for short toyboys.”

“Not like that,” smirked Ignis. “Cindy and Aranea have both taken him under their wings in the past year. It seems that not even they can resist having something small and fluffy to mother.”

Prompto let out a groan, but still he didn’t move. “We’re just roommates, hanging out. I’m not being mothered.”

“Explain the jumper then, Prom,” teased Gladio fondly. “You’ve been mothered. Don’t you remember when I got threatened by Aranea for daring to feed you protein shakes?”

“She just knows I’m used to Iggy’s cooking again now. Can’t have standards dropping,” huffed Prompto, but he was still relaxing under Noctis’ touch despite that.

“A year since I died,” hummed Noctis, tilting his head back to get some hair out of his face. “We’ve got catching up to do.”

* * *

 Noctis was relieved to see that they were out of practice when it came to setting up camp. They’d got it down to a fine art during their travels, but now it had taken Gladio twice as long to put up the tent as it used to, and Ignis was still struggling to get the fire going. Prompto would usually be off collecting water in their old routine, but for some reason the other two seemed content to let him go off taking pictures, provided he didn’t stray out of sight. God, they almost seemed happy to watch him do so.

And Noctis… well, Noctis felt useless. When he’d got up to try and find some food for them, Ignis had reassured him that it wasn’t necessary, that they had enough food for well over a week in the back of the car. When he’d got up to try and help Gladio set up the tent, the man had laughed, shook his head and told him to relax. And he didn’t think he’d be able to keep up with Prompto at the minute even if he tried, the blonde was downright spritely as he hopped around the grass of the haven trying to get pictures of Chickatrice.

He couldn’t even help Ignis get this damned fire started. He’d instinctively tried to summon his magic, cast a fire spell to get it over with, but it had felt like black ink was crawling up his veins, a poisonous lack of magic that made him feel nauseous and cut off his breathing temporarily. Ignis had noticed, and he’d had to explain it away as the chronic pain that had plagued him since childhood, and he thought his advisor had bought it.

Was Ignis even his advisor anymore? He couldn’t be a king without magic, certainly not. His entire purpose in life had been snatched away with his magic – everything he’d been raised to do since birth was just… gone. Gladio wouldn’t be his shield any longer, because only kings and princes needed shields, and did he even need a crowsguard any more? 

“Oi, Noct!” called Prompto, face and blonde spikes popping up over the stone edge of the haven as he jumped. “Come help me with a photo, dude?”

“Sure,” said Noctis, grateful for something to do at last. He winced from the pain in his knee as he got up, and made his way down the rocks before anybody could say anything about it.

 “You ready?” smiled Prompto, and in that moment Noctis could almost have sworn it was like old times. Sure, his best friend had more freckles from Eos now actually having the amount of sunlight a world was supposed to have, and looked a little older and more tired, but this was the kind of thing Prompto would have dragged him out of bed early for eleven years ago.     

“Sure am,” grinned Noctis, following after him as he made his way towards the tomb. “How come they’re letting you skip out on setting up camp, anyway?” 

“Afraid they’ll break me, I think,” hummed Prompto, his strides slightly too fast for him to keep up with easily. “I didn’t exactly take your… death… well. Part of the reason I live with Aranea at the minute.”

And shit – at that point Noctis felt like his heart might break. How could he have been selfish enough to have been enjoying his death? He’d thought his friends would be okay, that they’d have walked tall, how fucking stupid had he been?

“I guess that’s… understandable,” he sighed finally. “What about the others? Were they okay? What have you all been doing?” 

“Dude… I wouldn’t say okay,” sighed Prompto, stopping for him to catch up. “There were a few months where people were kind of rebuilding around us. Iris, Cor, Aranea and Cindy kind of took charge to give us some space. I’m the only one who landed themselves in hospital though, if that’s what you mean? But we were kind of getting there, if you get what I mean. Gladdy took charge of vetting the refugees that were coming in – you know how you said you wanted no borders when you were king? There’s none now. Eos is one country. Kinda. Galahd kind of wants to do its own thing, but other than that…”

At least Gladio was functional then. The hospital comment was going to play on his mind all night though, he needed to remember to ask Gladio or Ignis about it.

“Iggy really had it rough for a few months. He didn’t know whether he was coming or going… like… he didn’t know what to do without you,” continued Prompto, swallowing thickly. “Like his purpose had gone. When me and Cindy figured out how to help him see again though, he perked up. He opened up the hospital, lots of people need physical rehab and stuff from the darkness and daemon attacks and shit. So he runs that.”

  
“And what about you?” asked Noctis, hoping that it wasn’t quite as depressing as he thought. Maybe he’d gone full time with his photography?

“Me?” asked Prompto, sounding surprised he’d even asked. “Um. I’m an ambassador kind of thing? Me and Aranea and Cindy go around trying to rebuild places outside of Insomnia. The place is getting crowded, like… ten to a room crowded in some places, so we’re trying to make sure that people have somewhere to go when they get sick of it all. We’ve done some parts of Niflheim, since Aranea knows the place and is keeping order, and I have… access to stuff, and they have enough materials for Cindy to work,” he said, fiddling with the wristband that still covered his tattoo. “I started that pretty early to try and keep from going crazy. I don’t stand out there as much as I do in the Crown City. It’s where we found blueprints for Iggy’s sight. We’re going to Tenebrae next, I think.”

“So that’s why you’re with them both so often,” nodded Noctis in understanding. “Those old crushes faded then?”

“They have, yeah,” nodded Prompto, starting to walk towards the tomb again. “Now I get them properly, you know? And they’ve been really good to me.”

“Sure sounds like it. So where are we taking this picture then? You’ll have to show me the ones I’ve missed later,” said Noctis, following after him.

“I thought it’d be cool if we got one of you giving the tomb the finger? Since you’re not dead anymore and all?” said Prompto, face slightly unsure as he looked to Noctis for approval.

“Fucking cool,” grinned Noctis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmaooooo noctis thought they'd take it well what a dumb boy! walk tall my fucking ass


	4. A Campfire

Noctis mentally thanked the astrals that Ignis could still cook.

 

It was like any weird thoughts, or tension, was diffused as the four of them sat down to a Papa and Baby Bird bowl around the camp fire. Prompto had sat next to him, showing him pictures of Insomnia’s rebuilding, of the mountains in rural Niflheim, of children flocking to Gladio in the street.

 

He thought the best of all of them though, were five or six of Ignis’ sight being turned on for the first time – he’d never seen the normally collected man looking so startled (Ignis had insisted he was _not_ startled, and that was merely the face of a man who hadn’t seen in ten years).

 

“Totally startled, Iggy,” grinned Gladio, stirring the egg into the rest of his dish. “You even asked Prom what the hell was on his face.”

 

“Dude,” groaned Prompto. “The goatee wasn’t even that bad. Maybe he was startled by your ponytail!”

 

“It’s not quite as startling as a chocobo butt,” laughed Noctis, shaking his head fondly and grinning when he earned a nudge to his side from Prompto.

 

“I wasn’t startled,” sighed Ignis, shaking his head. “They haven’t grown up too much as you can see, Noctis.”

 

“Is it bad that I’m kind of glad they haven’t?” smiled Noctis. Because honestly, he was glad his friends hadn’t changed beyond recognition. They’d obviously gone through hell the ten years he’d been gone the first time, and the past year had to have changed them, but he could still see the same men he’d known in his twenties.

 

“As you wish, your majesty,” grinned Prompto, setting his meal on his knee for a moment to imitate bowing, and nearly causing Gladio to dive onto the ground to save it when it nearly fell with the motion.

 

“Dunno, you could have done with a few years,” sighed Gladio once Prompto’s meal was secure on his lap again. “Just until you learned to not drop plates every time you eat.” 

 

“Come on big guy! Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes,” grinned Prompto, and the ensuing squabble between the two of them let some long held tension in Noctis’ back release again.

 

He was home.

 

He was with his friends – who hadn’t seemed to abandon each other again, thank the astrals – and he was eating one of his favourite meals in the whole world once again. If it wasn’t for the fact it was still light despite it getting late, he’d have thought nothing much had changed post death.

 

“Does it always stay this light this late? What time even is it?” asked Noctis curiously, looking up the sky. The edges were turning to pink and gold now, but the part above them was still blue.

 

“It’s around 7pm,” smiled Ignis. “Night has been falling at around 10. It seems that we hadn’t really noticed the effects of 2000 years of gradually creeping starscourge before the dawn.”

 

“I’ll be damned,” smiled Noctis, shaking his head. “Well it’s good to see.”

 

“Farmers don’t know what to do with the bumper crops they’re getting from all this sunlight, dude. They didn’t build store sheds big enough, even before the darkness. Ignis lost his shit when he saw how cheap the ingredients had got when we went to Lestallum,” laughed Prompto.

 

“I’m not sure that I ‘lost my shit’, but it’s certainly given me more ingredients to play with,” smiled Ignis.

 

“New recipehs?” laughed Noctis, winking over at his advisor.

 

“You don’t even know the half of it. I nearly lost these bad boys trying them all for him,” grinned Gladio, gesturing to his abs.

 

“Yeah, he didn’t. Don’t let that liar convince you otherwise Noct, he’s been letting the refugee districts use him as a washboard,” grinned Prompto.

 

“He’s garnered quite the fanclub,” teased Ignis, shaking his head.

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis watched as Prompto was the first to go back to the tent, giving it until the rustling inside the tent died down before he turned back to Ignis and Gladio.

 

“You’re gonna ask what happened with him,” said Gladio, sighing and sitting back in his camping chair, and Noctis could feel his eyes widening in shock.

 

“He’s right, isn’t he?” sighed Ignis. “There has to be a reason why you’re not in bed even before Prompto. Death can’t have changed your sleeping habits massively.”

 

“I guess so,” admitted Noctis. “He mentioned hospital before, so I guess you can’t shock me too much. And I’m glad you’re able to joke about my death now.”

 

“Get yourself settled in, Noct,” said Gladio. “It’s not exactly a fun story.”

 

“After your death was announced,” sighed Ignis. “It was decided that a government system would be introduced. Since the Lucis Caelum line no longer had an heir.”

 

“Understandable, I guess,” nodded Noctis. “What’s that got to do with Prom though?”

 

“There were groups who took power in the interim. As the best friend of the king, who was chosen by you rather than born into any kind of role, his opinion came quite important to remaining Royalists who were busy searching for any living branch,” explained Ignis.

 

“So the people who were trying to form a government kept pulling him into shit. Paraded him around for everyone to see,” said Gladio. “We were still holed up, dealing with everything,” he explained, thumbing between himself and Ignis. “But they kept pulling him out. Gave him drugs to stop him being too emotional and shoved him on envoys with someone who went around telling people the benefits of a government system. We’re not sure what else they did to him, he doesn’t remember fully.”

 

“And then Aranea came across him on one of these visits. I’m not sure if you’re aware that she took a shine to him when he was knocked off the train, but…” said Ignis, trailing off. “She got him out of that situation as fast as she could, thankfully. There was a mysterious assassination.”

 

“Shit,” winced Noctis, shaking his head.

 

“Yeah. Shit,” nodded Gladio. “Anyway, by the time she got him back to the capital, he’d been running on shit coping mechanisms for a while. Not really eating, trying to burn off his tattoo, the drugs they’d been giving him. He was a fucking shell.”

 

“We were going to keep him home with us, initially. But he clung to Aranea,” explained Ignis. “So he went to live with her. He attempted to slice off his tattoo – that’s what he explained it as, anyway, he was dissociating a fair bit at that time – and when she took him to the hospital for treatment, they committed him.”

 

“It did him good, honestly,” admitted Gladio. “We saw a change in him within a week. We went and visited and he looked younger.”

 

“Not surprising. He was away from stress and actually having time to process…” sighed Noctis.

 

“And he’s been fairly stable since he was released. He spent a month in there, and he’s been keeping up with his follow up treatment. Aranea and Cindy go with him to his visits to the other countries, so he feels safe,” explained Ignis. “The royalists still value what he says very highly, so he couldn’t stay hidden away for too long, they were trying to establish another line as the legitimate King of Lucis.”

 

“Which was kicking off fighting. So he went,” sighed Gladio. “He still has moments. That’s part of the reason we’re here. He wasn’t going to cope in the middle of that parade shit that’s going on right now.”

 

“Quite. We were intending on leaving Insomnia anyway, but the announcement of the celebrations made our decision for us,” explained Ignis. “But today… he’s done well. We haven’t really seen him itching to take pictures for a while, but today he had. His pictures were all something commemorative, rather than things he found interesting like it used to be.”   

 

“I… yeah. I guess I could see that, when he was showing me. No selfies,” said Noctis.

 

“When we go to the capital, you’ll see more than enough pictures of him taken by others. No real need for selfies any longer,” sighed Ignis.

 

The thought of going back to the capital city made his stomach flip. It was way, way too real to think about. He didn’t have a position any longer – a government was now in place, like they’d said, a government which his friends had influence on, apparently, and god, what was even the point of him going ba –

 

“Noct,” said Gladiolus, rubbing his back to bring him back. “You still with us?”

 

“I… yeah,” sighed Noctis. “Weird moment there. Must be the whole dying thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao I'm sorry for hurting prompto!


	5. Awakening

If his father could see him struggling to sleep right now, Noctis knew he’d laugh.

 

He’d been asleep for a year, he rationalised. It was to be expected. What wasn’t to be expected though, was the blinding pain in his back and knee, the pounding of his heart, the sweat pouring off his back, and the fact that he generally felt like he was going to die all over again.

 

It wasn’t like anything he’d felt before. He’d been a sickly child, yet it felt like nothing he’d suffered from at any point. The pain in his back was different to when he’d been attacked as a child, it almost felt like something was being sucked from him. He let out a gasp as he shifted, immediately regretting it when Prompto stirred.

 

“Noct,” whined the blonde, rolling over and flopping an arm over his chest. His brow furrowed when Noctis tensed underneath him though, and he sat up to look at him. “Shit, sh- Iggy! Gladdy! Fuck, f-fuck, he’s going to –“ he started, hands trembling as he reached down to press the back of his hand to Noctis’ forehead.

 

“Prom, it’s fine, I just…” tried Noctis, wincing when he heard the two other occupants of the tent shifting. He really hadn’t intended for this to happen. When had he started shaking?

 

“Do you know what time it is, Prompto?” sighed Ignis as he sat up, reaching for his glasses and flicking a switch on them before he put them on.  “Your majesty!”

 

“Shit,” said Gladio when he sat up, manoevering himself through the cramped tent. “Guess we’re not staying out of Insomnia overnight then,” he said, scooping Noctis into his arms.

 

“I’m fine,” groaned Noctis, but admittedly the pain in his back had only grown since he’d accidentally woken Prompto, and he was struggling to find any comfort in Gladio’s hold.

 

“You,” said Gladio, looking down at him as he carried him towards the car. “Are not fine. Have you seen yourself Noct?”

 

“You look like shit, dude,” said Prompto, following along with the blankets from the tent bundled in his arms. Noctis wasn’t entirely sure when he’d found the time to gather them up – he knew he couldn’t be keeping up with everything though, because it felt like it was less than a few seconds before he was bundled up in the back of a car, sprawled over the laps of Gladio and Prompto, Ignis driving faster than he’d ever seen him up the hill from the Vesperpool.

 

“’Nea? I just – I’ll explain when we’re there – I, you can get us through? No questions for now, right?” Prompto was saying on the phone, one hand anxiously fisted around the hem of Noctis’ trousers.    

 

There was a particularly awful shock of pain right down Noctis’ spine, and he couldn’t help but let out a cry of pain.

 

And then he was drifting into sleep at long last, everything else fading away.

 

* * *

 

Noctis wasn’t sure how long he was out – but the next time he woke, it was to Gladio’s snores, and Ignis and Prompto’s breathing. He rubbed his eyes, cringing when he felt something tugging at his skin with the movement, and then opened them.

 

There was a cannula in his hand. That explained it.

 

Looking around, he realised he was in a hospital room, and that his friends were sleeping in various places round the room. Gladio was sat upright in the chair next to the bed, hair completely loose and a fair layer of stubble over his jaw. Ignis, ever the cleverest of them, had pushed three chairs together in a kind of makeshift bed, extra blankets draped over him. Prompto was tucked up on an obviously borrowed office chair with a blanket draped over his shoulders, his head resting on the edge of the mattress next to his feet, his hair soft and ungelled.

 

How long had he been here? Obviously enough time for at least Prompto to have showered, and for Gladio have grown fresh stubble. And apparently enough time for the ache in his back to have faded from the sharp piercing pain it had been before, to the dull ache he’d been used to. He was pretty sure there was sunlight peeking through

 

His eyes flicked over to the door when he heard hushed whispers outside the room, and he bit his lip. He didn’t know how to answer any of the questions that might come with someone outside of the four of them seeing him. People would probably think that he’d been a coward, that he’d lived and gone into hiding, which would inevitably get his friends into trouble with their new positions. Or they might think that his friends had been lying, that they had deliberately taken him out, or any number of things – he knew how vicious Insomnia’s rumour mill could be.   

 

“Good to see you’re awake, Princess,” said Aranea as she walked in, a fairly terrified looking nurse trailing behind her. “Don’t bother,” she started when he opened his mouth to speak. “Shortcake over there has filled me in. Go ahead Nurse Curantis. Remember what I said though, you’re not to wake them.”

 

“Mr Lucis Caelum?” asked the nurse. “Can I take your vitals?”

 

Noctis nodded, offering his arm for her to do what she needed. “Uh. Aranea? When is it?”

 

“You’ve been here a week,” said Aranea. “In body, anyway. They think you’ve been going through some weird withdrawal from your magic.”

 

And honestly, that made a lot more sense to Noctis than he’d expected. The whole point of the Lucis Caelum line was that they had a different physiology to accommodate magic running in their veins. Now that his magic had gone, it wasn’t surprising he’d had some kind of effect.

 

“Okay,” sighed Noctis, nodding. “Do people know I’m here?”

 

“No. And right now, we’re keeping it that way,” said Aranea firmly. “It’s a fragile time.”

 

“What do you mean a fragile time?”

 

“People have seen that one,” said Aranea, nodding over to Gladio, “wandering the halls of the hospital. Which means that the royalists have panicked, and decided that one of the other two are on their deathbeds.”

 

“So can’t you just say they’re not?” frowned Noctis.

 

“And what? Say that you’re here instead? None of them have been seen outside of the hospital in weeks,” said Aranea, raising an eyebrow. “Specs doesn’t want to risk sparking it off more. I’m sticking to his plan on this.”    

 

“I…” said Noctis, furrowing his eyebrows. Ignis always knew best, he guessed.

 

“Plus you look like shit right now. I’m not throwing you to the wolves like that,” said Aranea, heading out of the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis was first to stir, and Noctis almost sighed with relief. He needed to figure out more of what had been going on. “Iggy?” he stage whispered over at him, before looking over to Gladio and Prompto to check he hadn’t woken them. Thankfully, the two of them seemed to be sleeping soundly – soundly enough that he was fairly sure Prompto’s drool was now soaking through the blanket next to his ankle.

 

“Your majesty?” asked Ignis in surprise, putting his glasses on before getting up. “You’re awake!”

 

“Yeah, I’m awake,” nodded Noctis. “What’s going on? Aranea told me a few basics, but I’ve got questions.”

 

“Ah. Was she harassing the nurses?” sighed Ignis, moving one of the chairs over to Noctis’ side, and putting the pillow he’d been using under Prompto’s head.

 

“Kinda. Escorting is probably more accurate,” shrugged Noctis. “So I know it’s been a week and that I’m in withdrawal or something. And that people think one of you is dying. What’s happening?”

 

“You passed out on the journey here,” sighed Ignis. “You’re currently back in Insomnia. The doctors obviously haven’t ever seen something like this before, but working through the physiology, they’ve assumed that a withdrawal from magic is most likely the cause of your illness. Therefore we’ve been at your bedside ever since.”

 

“You could have gone home you know. No need to be destroying your backs on my account,” said Noctis.

 

“And risk losing you just after we got you back?” came Gladio’s voice from the corner of the room, voice still thick with sleep. “Not a fucking chance, Noct.”

 

“Indeed,” agreed Ignis. “Nothing could have moved us from these grounds. We managed to find our niches to sleep in.”  

 

“Well thanks,” nodded Noct. “You guys are the best.”

 

“Are you tryna make us cry, dude?” mumbled Prompto, eyes still closed as he reached to poke Noctis’ thigh. “No saying that unless we’re allowed to cry. Cause I will.”

 

“Let’s stay away from that phrase then,” said Noctis with a half laugh. “Can’t risk having Aranea and Cindy coming in to kill me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "you guys... are the best" fucker


End file.
